Pride and Prejudice: Alliteration!
by theabominablepen
Summary: Hogwarts has a new Muggles Studies Professor...and a new play too! Based on Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, the play stars Lily as the precocious Elizabeth Bennet and James as the arrogant Mr Darcy. They fit their roles pretty well, don't they?
1. Chapter 1: A Very British Zoo

A/N: The first chapter of a new fanfic! I hope this turns out well, I really do.

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The first day back is like being at the zoo. The first years are like little mouse-deer, gazing around with huge eyes at the platform (have they never seen a train?), scampering around like timid deer on spindly legs (my goodness, have their parents been feeding them enough?) and being trampled on by gorillas of seniors. And I meant that last bit literally.

"Hey you!" I yelled at a fellow seventh year, Anthony Gorrila, as he squished a little eleven-year-old kid under his size seventeen feet, "Watch where you're going!" Anthony turned towards me, scratching his gorilla head and probably launching a shower of dandruff onto the first year's head. Poor kid.

"Huh?" He asked, not knowing that there was a kid squashed under his hairy foot. Of all the oblivious guys! I pushed through the throng towards him, dodging three speeding trolleys and a large woman dragging her son through the crowd.

"Hey Lily," Anthony waved, "Had a nice holiday?" He stuck out his hand to shake, but I pretended to ignore it. Goodness only knows where he last stuck his hand. Hopefully not in his pants to scratch that huge baboon ass of his. Obviously, he wasn't into hygiene, although he could use a bottle of hand sanitizer and a bath now and then.

"Uh Anthony? You might want to look down," I replied. He looked down. The first year was thrashing under the monster shoe, his face red from yelling, though he could not be heard over the din. Yes, that's how loud the platform was.

"Oh," said Anthony very intelligently, "Sorry." He looked at me, then looked down again at the screaming first year. The first year was still trapped under the shoe. I resisted the urge to smack Anthony. Honestly, seven years in Hogwarts and still missing some vital brains?

"Uh Anthony? You might want to move your shoe," I hinted.

"Oh, right." He lifted off his shoe and parked his shoe on someone else's luggage, flattening it immediately. The poor luggage stood no chance against Anthony's killer heel. Oh well. At least the first year was safe. Standing beside me, he looked like a shaken mouse. I could almost see his whiskers twitching from his traumatic experience. He shivered from fear and shrinked from Anthony.

"Hello," I said gently, "I'm Lily." He quivered and squeaked, despite my gentle tone.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I'm the head girl for this year, I'll look after you." He seemed calmed by my words and I hoped he felt better.

"What's your name?" I asked and he met my eyes for the first time.

"I'm Bobby. Bobby Mouser," He answered shyly. Mouser. Okay, so that explained his behavior. I brought him to the first years' compartment, where he wouldn't be trampled on by large seventh years'. My good friend Alice Prewett was there taking charge of the youngsters and I waved to her.

"Shouldn't you be patrolling the train somewhere?" She asked after we exchanged hellos.

"I'm on a more stressful job," I replied dryly, "I'm patrolling the platform." Alice clucked sympathetically, then shooed me away.

Right, back to the zoo.

"Hey! Stop climbing over the trolleys!" I yelled to two boys climbing over a pile of discarded trolleys. They saw me, thought they were in trouble and scampered off.

"Wait, stop! You're going to crash into the-" A crashing noise "wall." I finished. Too late. I rushed over to the two boys.

"Are you okay?" I asked the boys, after giving them a once-over. They were twins, so it was practically impossible to tell them apart, except that one sported a giant bruise and the other a nosebleed. And possibly a broken nose. Stupid little boys.

"Ouch," The one with the nosebleed said, clutching his nose, "I dink my dose is boken." I sighed, then decided to bring them to the school nurse. Thank goodness Dumbledore had the foresight of having a nurse on the train. I mopped up his nosebleed with some tissues, then headed towards the nurse. His twin jumped around me, disregarding the lump on his head, which sadly did not give him a concussion, asking me all sorts of questions as we made our way to the nurse.

"What's going to happen to Matthew? Is his nose broken? Are you a seventh year?" He asked, bouncing like he was on crack.

"I don't know. I think so. Yes I am a seventh year," I tried to keep calm and answer him.

"Are you in Ravenclaw? Are you smart? Do you think you're pretty?"

"No I'm in Gryffindor. I guess? Uh I don't think so?"

"Why not? I think you're pretty," He said seriously and I could almost hug him. How sweet-

"Which professor do you like best?" He asked again. Okay, maybe again, not so sweet, I thought as another barrage of questions came my way.

"Why are clouds blue? Do you like James Potter? Do you-" Wait, what?

"What?" I asked, "James Potter? Ew no way ever! How did you know him anyway?"

"Everyone says you like him! It's so obvious!" I stared at him incredulously.

"What? Since when? No way!" I sputtered, "I hate him!" He cocked his head to the side, like he was thinking about something. Oh. No. Please, no.

"Why don't you like James Potter?" He asked innocuously. Not that question again!

"Oh look! We're here," I exclaimed with fake enthusiasm. The nurse saw Matthew and beckoned to me. Thank goodness I evaded the question.

"Stay with your brother and don't run around anymore," I instructed the other boy. He nodded his head vigorously and turned to go.

"Wait!" Someone tugged on my robes, "I'm Matthias Munk-Key and that's my brother Matthew. We're twins." Like I didn't know they were twins earlier. Munk-Key. That would explain it.

Why do I dislike James Potter so much? Truth was, I didn't know the answer anymore. I mean, he annoyed me to no end for the past six years by asking me out. Is it just me, or does it seem like a really juvenile reason to 'hate' someone? Hear my resolution, I will give James Potter a chance this year and not pass judgment on him until I am sure he is utterly detestable. Or decent, although the latter seems downright impossible.

At the exact moment I made my resolution, James Potter levitated Severus Snape and hung him upside down. He and his group of friends were the center of attention on the busy platform, and the man of the moment himself was smirking arrogantly.

Breathe, Lily.

Throw all my good resolutions away. That _bloody_ James Potter! Must he always hold stupid grudges? Severus never did anything to him other than an occasional verbal insult, which did not deserve a public humiliation at the hands of Potter and gang. Marauders. What rubbish. They were more like playground bullies. Honestly, grow up! You might think, seventeen-bloody-years-old guys would know how to control themselves.

"Potter!" I screamed, my throat hurting from all the overuse. He looked at me and let Severus down. I was not surprised that he already knew what I was going to yell at him for.

"Hello Lils. Had a good holiday?" He asked me, smirking. I fumed. That bloody idiot was still so happy after bullying Severus? What a fart.

"Let Severus be, Potter! He doesn't deserve your bullying!" I yelled at him. His smirk disappeared.

"You didn't see what happened before that. Your precious Severus was bullying the first years. I came in to protect them, not bully Severus. Believe me, I want to wipe that oily smile off his greasy face, but I'm on patrol. I can't misbehave," He said very seriously. I was momentarily stunned. Since when had _James Potter _ever been serious? He waited my reply, his face not breaking out in a megawatt smirk that was his 'Potter trademark'. I was about to tell him that I made an error when realization dawned on me.

Wait, what?

"Patrolling? But you aren't a Prefect," I asked, confused. He flashed a smile.

"You're right. I'm not. Dumbledore made me Head Boy," He replied.

Wait, WHAT? My brain must be going crazy. How could James Potter, prankster extraordinaire, be Head Boy?

"Wait, what?"

"Unbelievable, isn't it?" James shrugged, "My mum nearly had a heart attack when she saw my badge." He pointed to a shiny badge on his robes, almost identical to my own, except with 'Head Boy' on it.

My jaw dropped wide open and for once I was rendered speechless. How? How? How? Countless 'Hows' ran through my brain and I stared at his badge, uncomprehending.

"Close your mouth, Lils. It isn't ladylike," He smirked at me, snapping me back to reality. I glowered at him. Piss off, Potter. I was angry and no one likes dealing with an angry Lily. Uh-uh.

"I can't believe I have to put up with you for my last year!" I exploded, "What have I done to deserve this?" I made to punch him, but he caught my fist easily.

"Easy now, Lils. We're going to have to work together for the whole year," He said calmly, trying to pacify me. Hearing his words only made my blood boil.

"Don't call me Lils! You're a bloody jerk and a freaking pain in the bloody arse!" I yelled at him, "Not to mention you're an annoying git and an arrogant prat of an arsehole!" He pulled my fists and clamped a hand over my mouth, effectively stopping my tirade. I tried biting him but he held on firmly. When I licked him, all he did was give me a disgusted look. He didn't need to do that. I was already gagging from the possible Potter germs I could have gotten from his hand.

"Thanks for the insults, luv, but shush, you're making a scene here," He whispered once I had stopped squirming.

Shit.

Belatedly, I realised that the whole platform of people had stopped to look at us fighting. The Head Boy and Head Girl. How dignified. Oh dammit, I thought, as I caught sight of a group of first years staring at us with wide eyes and open mouths, shocked by our, okay, my outburst. My language was not for their ears! It was my first day at school and already managed to spew inappropriate language and cause a scene. How bloody awesome. Not to mention I probably looked like a wild animal myself, with my hair mussed up and my face red from shouting. Shit. I glared at the Marauders, to whom I utterly blamed for the entire mess. Sirius saw me glaring at him and practically howled with laughter. Reminder: Kill Sirius later. But what an embarrassment! Right after what I was disgusted by James Potter and co's lack of control, I displayed the same impulsivity. Damn. Damn!

"Shit!" I cursed in a whisper just loud enough for Potter to hear, "What do we do?"

He winked at me then announced, "Gentlemen, Ladies, we appreciate your kind attention, but Miss Evans and I are heading to our carriage now. So long, folks." With that, he dragged me off to the sound of wolf-whistles and claps. As we left, I wrenched my arms from his grasp. He relented, sauntering beside me towards the heads' carriage, looking as if he had not a care in the world, whistling as he strutted with all the arrogance of a peacock. No, worse than a peacock. Peacocks are prettier. His attitude infuriated me, and I could not help but get steadily more pissed at him.

"What does that mean, you beanhead?" I whispered angrily, "Did you just imply-"

"That we were somehow romantically involved? Yes I did, luv," Potter replied mischievously, "Give them something to talk about."

"Eurgh! You arrogant prat! I hate you!"

"That's old news, luv. I already knew that. But there's a fine line between hate and love, that's what they all say."

"I am not with you and I will never be!" I whispered back.

"Hey, want to hear a pick-up line?"

"No!"

"Okay. Let's go to my room and do some math. Add some condoms, subtract our clothing, divide your legs and _multiply_."

"What is on your brain? I don't want to hear another pick-up line!" I whisper-yelled at him. He shrugged and smirked.

"I only think about you, luv," He whispered huskily in a supposedly sexy voice.

"Sorry, that doesn't do anything for me. I will never like you. Never. Understand?" I hissed.

"Oh, you wish. All the girls are throwing themselves at my feet because of my supreme hotness."

"What hotness? I'm sorry, I don't see any hot guys around. And hotness isn't even a word!" I retorted.

"Ah, luv, you wound me," He clutched his heart in mock-hurt.

"Stop calling me luv. Why are you even calling me 'luv', you arse?"

"You called me arse so I call you luv. Duh." He waved at someone carelessly.

"And arse has nothing to do with luv! Stop it!"

"You went all British with your 'bloody' and 'arse', didn't you, luv?"

I slapped him and hissed angrily, "I don't like it and I don't like _you_, so stop it!"

"Stop what?" He asked innocently.

"Stop calling me 'luv', you ugly imbecile."

"I'm not ugly! Even my mum thinks I'm the epitome of hotness," He preened arrogantly.

I snickered. Him and his stupid ego.

"Of course you're ugly! Can't be your mum's side, she's nice and nice-looking enough. Must be your dad and all his horrible genes that-"

"Stop." He cut me off tersely. Suddenly, his whole attitude and demeanor changed. The easy smile was replaced by a grim line. His lips were pressed together tightly and his smiling eyes turned hard and cold.

"What?" I asked, confused by his sudden change.

"Just stop talking." He said stiffly, then walked off, his eyes steely. I tried walking faster, but he reached the carriage ahead of me. He pushed open the carriage door viciously and slammed it as he entered. Mystified by his actions, I hesitated upon going in. I figured it was probably what I said about his dad, although I had no idea why my comment sparked his anger. Perhaps he and his dad were on bad terms? I had no idea. In my six years of knowing him, I had never seen this James Potter, the cold, brooding one, simmering with silent anger. I suddenly felt afraid of him.

I debated whether or not to go in but I was determined to at least apologize for something I had unknowingly done. When I walked in, he was buried in a book, though I could tell that his attention was not on it.

"I'm sorry," I offered hesitantly, then flinched in anticipation of his reaction. There was nothing. No movement or sound to acknowledge me.

I sat down on an opposite seat and busied myself silently. Potter was silent.

"What happened between you and your dad?" I ventured. The moment the words left my mouth, he sprung up from his seat, eyes burning with cold fire.

"I said don't say it," He spoke in measured tones, yet the controlled anger in every word frightened me more than if he had shouted. I looked down onto my lap, not daring to meet his piercing eyes that shot daggers of ice and held a warning that he was at the edge of his tether. I clamped my mouth shut, too petrified to even make a sound.

I heard a thump as he sat back onto his seat.

The carriage drowned in silence, except for an occasional rustling of my bag and a flipping of my book.

He didn't say a word for the rest of the journey. He didn't turn a page of his book either.

* * *

A/N: Nothing recognizably Harry Potter belongs to me


	2. Chapter 2: OMGee

A/N: Hey soul sisters! Nothing remotely Harry Potter belongs to me, although I wish it does. My darling beta is too busy to edit this *sniff* so I'll post this first and edit later! Sorry for any errors, I type too fast and my ideas aren't really coherent.

* * *

"Lily!" I was given little warning before a flying hot pink form launched into me and sent me tumbling to the ground. I landed in a very awkward position, with Mary half sprawled in my lap. Figures. The only one who would own outrageous hot pink robes would be Mary. It was actually against the school rules, but I decided to tell her once she was over her excitement. No one could slip a word past a Mary MacDonald rant.

"Oh my god! I haven't seen you in the longest time oh I must tell you all about my holiday! Omg I met this really cute guy and his name was Jonathan and omg he is so hot I want to touch his gorgeous abs and omg his smile is just to die for and omg he is so hot I want to melt in his arms and omg let him seduce me like the tall dark gentleman he-" She rattled on. I grunted under her immense weight.

"Uh Mary? Could you please get off me? You're kind of heavy?" I hinted very subtly.

"Oh my god! Sorry! I totally didn't see you there!" She apologized and bounced off. I tried to pull myself up, but tripped over my robes and fell again. I tried getting up but my ridiculously heavy luggage fell onto me, trapping me under a hideous checkered trunk. Meanwhile, Mary was gushing about Jonathan ("Oh em gee he is so hot!") and totally oblivious to my situation. I scowled and since interrupting her 'hot' rant would be virtually impossible, I tried sending telepathic help messages to her.

"Need some help? You look like you've just fallen - for me," A husky voice interrupted.

"Go away," I snapped rudely, "You're interrupting my telepathy!"

"Reemuss!" The voice whined, "No one ever falls for my pick-up lines or my charm anymore!" I rolled my eyes without turning to face the speaker. I knew who it was. Sirius Black. I turned around and there was precocious Sirius, his hair swinging elegant-casually to the side, pouting like a little child with one hand on his hip. Remus Lupin was reading as he walked, only pausing to give Sirius a brief grunt before continuing. Peter Pettigrew followed behind them as usual. Notoriously absent was Potter, but I guessed he went off early to avoid me. Mary completely ignored Sirius and kept on talking.

"Dearest Sirry, of course I fall for your lame wit and your punny lines! I want have your babies right now!" I said in my sweetest voice and fluttered my eyelashes at him. He perked up.

"Really?"

"No chance in heaven or hell," I snorted. He pouted and stomped towards Remus.

"Reemus!" He whined, but Remus ignored him and continued reading his book. Sirius folded his arms across his chest petulantly and strutted back to me. Sirius Black strutting? Wasn't that a bit un-Sirius, I wondered.

"As you can see, I need some help here. Hello?" I asked, waving a hand in front of Sirius. He flicked his fringe and looked down at his nails, deliberately ignoring me. Oh of all the pig headed people!

"Black, please!" I almost begged him. It was almost impossible for me to get myself off the ground in the very queer position I was in, tangled up with my trunk.

"No can do, dahling," He shrugged, "Why should I help you? You, who have scorned my advances and hurt me in ways words cannot describe?"

He clutched his heart and declared, "No, Lily – Miss Evans, this cannot go on. My heart, it has been manhandled by you! You are so deceptively innocent like a lily flower, yet your heart is nothing but darkness!"

A snort from Mary. Then silence.

Then Peter started clapping

Remus and I just stared at him.

Peter stopped clapping, realizing he looked like an idiot.

Then Mary started talking about Jonathan again.

What in the name of Merlin's saggy left arse?

"Wow, I think we have a future poet in the making," Remus said wryly. Sirius flourished a bow to his imaginary audience. Remus strode over to me and pulled me and my luggage up effortlessly. For a stick-thin guy, he had some invisible muscles.

"Why is Sirius acting so...un-Sirius?" I asked, pointing at Sirius, who was checking his reflection in a mirror. Remus snickered.

"He's into acting and drama now. Apparently, the greatest actors are always gay," He said wryly.

"Oh. How weird," I commented.

"We need new friends," He said, gesturing at Sirius, now reciting lines from Macbeth, and Mary, whose very many spoken words fell on deaf ears.

"Yeah we do," I replied wearily, grabbing Mary's arm and dragging her towards the carriages, trying to pay attention to her gushing descriptions of Jonathan.

"And the way he looks at me! I really feel so special the way he holds my hand and looks into my eyes with those dreamy eyes of his! He knows he caught me dazing, cos he's just so amazing!" Her eyes lit up, "Hey that sounds like a rap!

He knows he caught me dazing,

'Cause he was so amazing,

And now my heart is breaking,

And I just keep on saying

Jonathan!"

She sighed again, clutching her heart and swooning, "I just wish I could see him again!"

"What? You mean the two of you aren't together?" I asked. She nodded and sighed.

"Why can't life be a fairytale? I don't even think he's a wizard! Why must magic stand in our way of our true love?" I patted her on her back soothingly. Mary was a fervent believer in true love and destiny, and talked endlessly of 'The One'.

"I'm sorry, Mary," I consoled sympathetically. I knew how much true love meant to her. A tear slipped out of the corner of one eye and before long, she turned into a sobbing, blubbering mess. Only Mary, with her volatile emotions, could switch from excited to depressed in a matter of seconds.

"Come on or we'll be late for the feast," I said, leading her to the carriages. Other than Sirius, Peter and Remus, we were the only ones left. Five of us. I groaned. This meant that we had to share a carriage with them, which meant I would have to listen to Sirius dramatically declaim Shakespeare for the whole journey.

Oh well.

* * *

For the past five minutes, the carriage had been silent with the exception of Sirius. Mary emo-ed in a corner, staring aimlessly out of the window. Remus had wisely chosen to indulge in a book while Sirius acted out Macbeth and Peter was sucking on a sweet.

"If I profane with my unworthiest hand

This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

Sirius' lines interrupted by reverie and I blinked in surprise. So it was Romeo and Juliet now?

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this;

For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,

And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss." A voice cut in.

I stared in amazement as Mary turned towards Sirius. Sirius looked as amazed as I felt, but a wide smile stretched his cheekbones at her reply. Remus had put his book down in surprise, gaping at Mary with his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. The sweet Peter had been sucking fell out of his mouth as he stared in utter shock. I had no idea Mary had even _heard_ of Shakespeare, let alone be able to recite the lines.

"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?" Sirius asked quietly, reaching out for Mary's hand.

"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer," Mary replied, grasping Sirius' hand with her own.

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;

They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake."

Sirius and Mary moved closer to each other, completely wrapped up in the moment, staring into each other's eyes. I held my breath in anticipation for the kiss I knew was to come, wondering if they were really going to kiss.

"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take," Sirius half-whispered, taking Mary's face in his hands. He brought her lips to his, hesitated a moment, then closed his lips over hers lightly in a ghost of a kiss.

"Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged," He said hoarsely, his eyes never leaving Mary's face.

"Then have my lips the sin that they have took," Mary said softly, dropping her eyes from his penetrating gaze, her fingers twisting knots in her robes.

"Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!

Give me my sin again."

With that, his lips descended on hers and she wound her arms around his neck, both of them lost in the embrace. I exchanged stunned glances with Remus. Evidently none of us knew what was happening. They finally broke apart from a very heavy Romeo and Juliet inspired make-out session, gazing into each other's eyes, Mary's hands buried in Sirius' hair and his hands cupping her face. They were lost in their own world, while Remus, Peter and I were forgotten.

I fiddled with my robes, feeling like I shouldn't be intruding in their private moment. All of a sudden, the carriage jolted to a halt. Mary and Sirius sprang apart guiltily. Sirius made a hasty exit, dragging Remus and Peter along while Mary fidgeted anxiously with her robes. I questioned her, but her answers were evasive. When we left the carriage, Sirius, Remus and Peter were waiting to walk into the Great Hall together, and other than their mussed hair and overly red lips, Mary and Sirius looked as if nothing had happened between them.

I shot Remus a questioning look, which he returned with a shake of his head. He had no luck getting anything out of Sirius either. I nudged Mary, but she ignored me. Obviously, something had happened between the two of them, but they refused to give us any details. Honestly, must Mary kiss and not tell? Feeling slightly frustrated and extremely hungry, I entered the Great Hall and stomped over grumpily to my seat at the Gryffindor table. The Sorting had almost ended and I was ravenous.

"Hey Lily. Hey Mary," Alice greeted us as we sat down at the table, "What took you so long?" Mary immediately launched into a conversation with the girl next to her and I got a distinct impression that she didn't want to talk to me. I was too hungry to talk and I waited impatiently for the Sorting to end.

Bored, I looked down the table at my fellow Gryffindor seventh years. Surprisingly, Potter was the quietest of the Marauders, hardly participating in their cheers for the new Gryffindors and the boos for the new Slytherins. He laughed at one of Sirius' jokes, but I could see that his smile didn't reach his eyes and his laughter was hollow and mirthless. A pang of guilt struck my heart. I was the one who had made him so upset. It was my fault.

As if he felt my gaze on him, he turned and his eyes locked with mine. He smiled, a cold, tight-lipped smile, his eyes accusing, then abruptly turned his searing gaze away, as if I wasn't worth his attention. That one gaze scorned me, laughed at me and trampled on me. I felt pissed off yet again. Fine. If he didn't want my concern, I won't care about him.

"Attention! Ladies, Gentlemen, Teachers, Ghosts, Students," Professor Dumbledore interrupted our plans with his before-the-feast speech, "I love being back here at school, don't you all! And this year, your lovely Head Boy and Head Girl are James Potter and Lily Evans!" Cheers broke out from all the tables except Slytherin. How typical. The Slytherins were looking mutinous, some defiant, Snape burned holes in Potter's head, so potent was his scowl. Bellatrix saw me looking at her way and bared her teeth in a feral growl that was supposed to intimidate me. Ooh, how scary. _Bite me_, I mouthed back. Dumbledore ran through all the typical back-to-school information, how Filch had banned another ten items, the Forbidden Forest was forbidden and a veiled warning from Filch to the Marauders about not playing pranks.

"I'd like to announce that we have a new Muggles Studies teacher, Professor Spinnet!" Dumbledore introduced. There was a round of polite clapping as a rosy-cheeked witch stood up, beaming at us all. I looked at her in interest. I took Muggle Studies, which was really easy since I was Muggleborn, and she looked nice. Our old Muggle Studies teacher was an old bat. As to why he quit, I guess he probably couldn't stand another year of Sirius Black's antics in our class.

"This year is a special year for Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued, "Professor Spinnet has kindly written a play for us based on a Muggle book." Here, there were loud boos from the Slytherin table. A few Gryffindors (read: Potter and Black) hissed back. Dumbledore looked amused.

"My dear Slytherin, remember that Muggles do make up most of our world, not wizards. It would do well to consider learning some of the Muggle culture. As I was saying, the play is based on a book I'm sure many of you have heard of: Pride and Prejudice, by the renowned author Jane Austen." Several gasps were heard at this point. I perked up. Pride and Prejudice! It was one of my favourite books of all time. I looked around the Gryffindor table. My friends were obviously in the dark, Potter, Black and Pettigrew didn't know what was going on, but Remus had the same gleam in his eyes that I had.

"For those – the majority – of you who did not have the opportunity to read the book, I will give a quick synopsis. The story is a romance between Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Fitzwillian Darcy. As first, the two hate each other, he despises her for her poor family ties and she despises him for his pride and arrogance. Through several meetings and chance circumstances, the two see each other for who they really are and love blossoms!" Dumbledore beamed happily, "Auditions will start tomorrow! All information will be placed at the back of the Great Hall. I expect all of you are famished! Ta ta for now, dearies! It's off to eat for you!" I raised an eyebrow at him. Was it just me or was he going weirder in the head as the years pass?

"Do you think Dumbledore's on crack?" I asked Marlene McKinnon, another of my good friends. She was extroverted and slightly taller than me.

"Huh? What's crack?" Marlene replied, clueless. I had forgotten she was a pureblood and didn't know much about Muggles. Honestly, most of the school were so cozy living in the wizarding world that they had absolutely no insight into a Muggle's life.

"Never mind," I said hastily as food appeared on the tables. I tucked in eagerly into the food as my friends gossiped beside me.

"Oh my, this play really sounds like you and James. You should try for it!" Marlene gushed. I looked up from my food and shot her a death glare.

"Without the falling in love part, of course," She hastily amended.

"Oh my oh my!" Sirius Black butted in, "They really are like that Pomp and Poopidice people."

I glared at him, then spoke with my mouth full of food, "Ish Pwike am Prewudice."

"It's Pride and Prejudice," Marlene translated.

"Fwanks," I replied. Black was eyeing his nails critically.

"Don't speak with your mouth full, Evans, it's unattractive," Sirius tutted, "Do you think I need to buff my nails?" I shut my mouth, glaring at him mutinously. I seemed to be doing a lot of glaring in Sirius' direction. What unattractive?

"No, Sirius, your nails are perfectly fine as they are," Remus said wearily. Sirius then whipped out a mirror and began checking his reflection.

"Do you think there's a zit growing on my chin?" He asked again. I ignored him and turned to my friends. There were better things to talk about than Sirius' unblemished face.

"Do you know what's going on between Sirius and Mary?" I asked in a hushed voice so that Mary wouldn't hear.

"Something's going on?" Alice asked, her eyebrows raised, "Strange, I thought they didn't even know each other!"

I nodded in agreement, "Exactly! But Sirius and her had a full blown snogging session in the carriage on the way to school." Alice and Marlene's eyes widened at the mention of this.

It was so weird. She didn't even seem to know Sirius at all last year and treated him as she did a casual acquaintance, yet somehow they seemed so intimate, right after she was rambling about her crush on Jonathan. Jonathan! I realised that she hadn't said a word about him after her encounter with Sirius.

"She said something about Jonathan, this guy who she met over the holidays, but she stopped talking about him since Sirius kissed her," I whispered conspiratorially. Alice's eyes practically gleamed with interest, while Marlene rubbed her hands in glee.

"We'll make her spill. She can't hide it from us forever." We grinned and high-fived.

"It'll be called Operation Mary Gee," I plotted.

"Wait, why is it Mary Gee? I thought she was Mary Macdonald?" Marlene interrupted. I smacked my head.

"Operation Mary Gee; OMGee. Get it?" I explained.

"Oh. I get it!"

"Anyway, we will investigate this Jonathan fellow and we will investigate Sirius. I'll get Remus' help."

We cracked identical evil smirks.

OMGee was in action!

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A/N: Thanks to sareface for putting me on story and author alert, I really appreciate it! For the rest of you out there...*very-subtle-hint-to-do-something-nice*


	3. Chapter 3: Alliterated Auditions

Okay so I really wasn't going to update until after exams, heck I wasn't even planning to write this till the holidays, but thank Crysdan for their really annoying efforts in badgering me to write. My darling beta has decided to study for her exams instead of editing this chappie (which I should be doing too!) so it may seem a bit strange. Come to think about it, she owes me two chapters of edits! How awfully mean.

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It was the day. Okay, not the day of the play or exam or whatever, but the day of the auditions. I looked through the list of tryouts again. Isabelle Fletchey, Joanna Campbell and Narcissa Black were all fellow seventh years and it was tough competition. All of them were taller than me and the figure of a model: long, slender legs, curves in all the right places and came from extremely rich pure-blood families. How could a short Muggle-born like me ever compare to them?

"Hey, relax," A calming hand rested gently on my shoulder. I turned to face James Potter.

"I'm sure everything will be fine," He said soothingly.

"Fine? Fine?" I shrieked, "All those bloody girls are prettier than me, richer than me and I am incomparable in every way!" He backed away.

"Does it mean so much to you, getting the part?"

"Obviously it does! I wouldn't mind so much if the others weren't bitches like they are!" I practically yelled the last part out. Three glares turned my way. Ah shit. Way to go, Lily. I scooted behind a very amused Potter.

"Potter! Hide me!" I squeaked.

"I think your popularity just increased by one notch, Lils," He drawled, that stupid smirk on his face. I scowled and punched his stomach. Even brick walls would have hurt my hand less than it did. His expression was gleeful and that idiot smirked at my pained expression.

"Potter, your stomach is as hard as rock," I informed him, trying to mask my pain.

"Why thank you, Lily," He said arrogantly.

"Yup. Hard as rock. Soft rock," I returned. His smirk slipped a bit, but he slung an arm over my shoulders.

"Whatever you say, Lils. Whatever you say." I shrugged off his arm just as I realised something.

"Why are you here? I didn't see your name on the tryout list," I asked.

"Oh I was supposed to tell you. Professor Spinnet wants us to be there for the auditions. She said something about Lizzy and Mr. Darcy must have chemistry or something. You'll be Lizzy to those trying out Mr. Darcy and I'll be Mr. Darcy to those trying out for Lizzy. The tryouts consist of one and a dance," He filled me in.

"Does that mean I have to dance with you?" I scowled.

"Why not?" He shrugged languidly, "It's not like I'm that bad a dancer!" I raised an eyebrow.

"Prove it."

"Not now. It'll spoil the surprise. You'll see later," He winked and strode off, just as a harrowed Professor Spinnet rushed to me.

"Lily, dear! James has told you what to do, right?" She asked. I nodded.

"Brilliant! Come along, dear, we're just about to start looking for a Mr. Darcy. You can use stage one and James will use stage two. We'll go to stage two for your audition," She spoke quickly as she pulled me along.

"Anthony, dear, you can start first!" She waved at the very hairy mammoth slouching in a corner. I sighed. I had a feeling my toes were going to be very sore.

"Uh Professor Spinnet? Do I do the scene first?" He asked, picking his nose at the same time.

"Sure! Whatever you prefer. Lily, dear, be Lizzy, won't you?" I acquiesced to her request, albeit unwillingly. Anthony eagerly clasped my hand in his giant palm. I winced as my hand was enclosed by the very fingers which had been in his nose just moments before.

"In vain I have…" Anthony sneezed and a massive wad of snot landed on his palm. He wiped his hand on his pants, then offered it to me.

"Could we start again?" He asked, grasping my palm. It took a lot of self-control not to pull away and run to the nearest toilet.

"Uh, okay?" I smiled weakly.

"In vain I have…" He started.

"Struggled," I hissed.

"Oh yes. In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be…"

"Repressed," I hissed again.

"Repressed. You must allow me to tell you how…"

"Ardently," I said resignedly.

"Ardently I admire and love you." He finished.

"Show some emotion," I instructed. His eyes turned as round as the moon, bulging out of their sockets and his lips stretched out in a feral grin. I looked at the floor, feeling sick. I was being proposed to by a Gorrila.

He babbled on, interrupted every once in a while with him forgetting his lines and me muttering them to him.

"That's nice, son," Professor Spinnet interrupted him in the middle of his speech, "How about we move on to the dance now?" Sighing, I got into the stance for a waltz. He lumbered over to me and grabbed my waist tightly, pulling me way too close for my liking. A whiff of body odour permeated the air and I almost choked from the stench. He scratched his head, giving me a dandruff shower. Now I was really itching for a bath.

The music started. He lumbered around, stepping on my toes all the time, and soon it seemed less like a waltz than a war dance. He spun me violently, then pulled me back to rest against his hairy chest.

"Ta-da!" He said proudly, his hairy arm still clutching me to his hairy chest. I winced, trying to extract myself out of his grasp. That guy had more hair on his body than I did on my head.

"You can let Lily go now," Professor Spinnet said hastily, her smile slipping a little as Anthony farted, "You can call the others in now, and we'll, er, inform you if you get the role." I snickered. He had as much chance of getting the role of Mr. Darcy as James Potter had of spawning my kids.

"And Lily, dear, would you like to wash up?" She turned to me. I gladly went to clean myself up and came back refreshed.

"Oh and could you clean up this place for me? I'm a Squib, you know."

"Sure, Professor," I said politely, "Scourgify!" The snowflake-like dandruff bits vanished in an instant. The dandruff covered floor almost looked pretty, like a snow covered driveway in winter, except that it came from Anthony's scalp.

The other two who tried out were better.

This Ravenclaw I didn't know said everything with mechanical precision. His movements were exact, he articulated every word and his dancing was smooth. Yet there was something too mechanical about him, his expressionless face, his clipped, polite tone and his stiff stance was too detached for my liking.

Gaspard Shingleton (Inventor of Self-Stirring Cauldron) remembered all his lines, but was a little too suave and oily for my liking. He constantly chatted me up throughout the course of the dance, pulling me a little too close, his hand a little too low on my hip.

"I am brilliant at potions, my favourite subject, and obviously my performance far exceeds my peers," He confided, pretending to be nonchalant.

"Obviously you are the epitome of brilliance," I remarked sarcastically, but he seemed to miss the sarcasm.

"Oh yes, of course."

"Darlings!" Professor Spinnet trilled, "I'm off to the loo for a while, entertain yourselves for a little while!"

"And I was saying, I have created something that will shake the wizarding world!" He boasted. I stifled a yawn.

"And that is?"

"A secret for now, dahling, but all will be revealed and soon you will have the privilege of knowing a famous person," He smirked, revealing yellow teeth. I shuddered. Even James Potter wasn't as bad as this. His hand slipped even lower, almost touching my ass and I gritted my teeth.

"Lily, if you would join me for some dinner? And maybe during the holidays you could visit my house?" He leered, pressing his body against mine. I gulped and tried to wrench away, but his grip was that of a desperate, horny seventh year.

"Stop pretending. You know every girl wants me," He whispered in my ear, his hot breath like hot air from an air-conditioner vent. I shuddered.

"You know you want me," He ran a hand up and down my arm, mistaking my shudder of disgust for one of pleasure. I dug my fingernails into his arm, trying to make him let go. My right hand tried to reach into my pocket for my wand, but I couldn't reach it.

"Help! He's raping me!" I yelled.

"You stupid female, all of you are the same. Why you just say no?" He whined, relaxing his grip on me.

"I thought I gave you enough signs!" I yelled at him, adjusting my robes.

"How am I supposed to know you don't like me?" He muttered a few choice words, "Now I've gone and made myself look like a fool in front of you."

"Well I don't like you okay?" I said firmly, half-expecting him to insist that I liked him.

"Okay," He shrugged, "It's never nice having your advances rebuffed, though. You could have told me sooner." He flounced off the stage.

"Girls, never know when they're playing hard to get," I heard him muttering. Oh for godssakes, couldn't guys take a hint?

"I heard you're getting raped and I decided to join the fray," An amused James Potter said from behind me. I jumped.

"Don't scare me like that!" I scowled. He chuckled.

"How am I supposed to know he's deaf and blind?" I sulked.

"It's a lesson, Lils. Guys can't take hints. You must say no really clearly. And even then, you must tell them many times," He replied.

"Like you?" I blurted out, unable to stop myself. He seemed unfazed, though.

"Well…yeah. I learned the way to the woman's heart isn't with pick-up lines, or bouquets of flowers, or marriage proposals," He said wryly, looking at me pointedly. I shot him a quizzical look, surprised. It was a miracle. He finally grew up.

"Seems like someone's matured."

"Sometimes it takes one event to change your perspective," He remarked off-handedly, waving his hand nonchalantly, even though I could see through his façade.

"I'm sorry, whatever it is," I ventured. He appeared not to hear me.

"Well, your highness, it's almost time for your auditions. Ready?" He asked, flourishing a bow.

He held his hand out, "Shall we, Elizabeth?"

"Oh don't you make a cute couple!" Professor Spinnet gushed as we walked (okay so I was dragged) to Stage Two. I shuddered, wrenching my hand away from Potter as I stalked onstage alone.

"Alright dear, we'll just start on Lizzie rejecting Mr. Darcy, shall we? James here has the part memorized already," She beamed at him.

"It's nothing, Professor, just born with a good memory," He smirked arrogantly at her, ruffling his hair. Ah, the famous Potter charm. He flicked his wand lazily, conjuring a bright pink armchair with a matching table. The Professor plopped into the armchair, her eyes twinkling at Potter.

"Oh, you do know how to make an old hen like me blush!" She chuckled. I wanted to gag. Here was James Potter, unleashing his (in)famous charm on a teacher and she was falling for it. What had the world come to?

"Professor? Can we start now?" I huffed impatiently, shooting Potter a death glare. He winked slyly at me. I rolled my eyes. He pouted. I rolled my eyes again. He fluttered his eyelashes. My eyeballs felt like they were on 'permanent roll' mode. By then, the Professor was watching our silent exchange avidly. I cleared my throat.

"Uh, shall we start?" I asked, breaking the somewhat awkward silence.

"Take it away, dear. The stage is yours."

"In such cases as this, it is, It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could _feel_ gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot – I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation," I said coldly, holding my head high in righteous indignation.

It was easier than I thought it would be, with Potter as Darcy. Years of experience rejecting his propositions had certainly helped. He was leaning against a makeshift mantelpiece as I spoke, his eyes never leaving my face in an unnerving stare. I watched as I saw his expression change from surprise, to anger, to a forced calmness, surprised that he could portray the emotions so well. He pressed his lips together in an attempt not to speak, then slowly expelled his breath, giving a show of trying to keep calm. The silence hung between us, as if we were really Lizzie and Darcy in the same situation.

"And this is the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little _endeavour_ at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance," His tone was calm, yet he seemed to be restraining his anger. I was impressed. He was good at it, better than anyone who tried out for the role that I had seen today.

"I might as well inquire, why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I _was_ uncivil? But I have other provocations. You know I have. Had not my feelings decided against you—had they been indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?" My voice trembled now, cold, forced civility giving way to raw emotion.

Potter started forward, but stopped himself, lips firmly pressed together.

"I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted _there_. You cannot deny that you have been the principal of dividing them from each other—of involving them both in misery of the acutest kind." My tone was accusatory. I vaguely recalled a similar situation, involving Severus, non-verbal spells and a dirty grey underwear.

His demeanor had changed as I spoke, seeming to laugh at me, his incredulous expression irritating the hell out of me, even though we were just acting from a scene.

"Can you deny that you have done it?" I repeated indignantly.

"I have no wish of denying that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your sister. To _him_ I have been kinder than towards myself," He spoke lightly, his body relaxed.

"But it is not merely this affair," I continued, "on which my dislike is founded. Your character was unfolded in the recital which I received many months ago from Mr. Wickham. On this subject, what can you have to say? Under what misrepresentation can you here impose upon others?"

He stiffened, his back ramrod straight, his voice strained, "You take an eager interest in that gentleman's concerns."

"Who that knows what his misfortunes have been, can help feeling an interest in him?" I shot back.

"His misfortunes!" Potter mocked contemptuously, "Yes, his misfortunes have been great indeed!" His smile was sardonic, his eyebrows knitted together.

"And of your infliction, you have reduced him to his present state of poverty. You have deprived the best years of his life. You have done all this! And yet you can treat the mention of his misfortune with contempt and ridicule," I said hotly, thoroughly enjoying myself. It was natural, arguing with Potter. Goodness knows, we'd done too much of that for the past six years. His face was flushed, striding across the stage, fists clenched.

"And this is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed! But perhaps," At this he turned to face me. I was stunned by the intensity of his gaze and the hurt pride behind his bold words.

"These offenses might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. I am not ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections?—to congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?"

I tried to imagine the anger surging within, as Elizabeth must have, calling to mind instances of being called a Mudblood. When I spoke, I was surprised at my chilly tone and the stubborn defiance with which I held my chin high.

"You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner."

As in the book, Potter started, but said nothing.

"You could not have made the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it." There it was, the bombshell. My glare fixated on him, in an act of defiance unheard of in women of that age. His expression was one of utter astonishment and his cheeks were flushed with humiliation.

I continued coldly, "From the very beginning—from the first moment—of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry."

"You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness," He said in a clipped tone, then swept off the stage haughtily. I glared at his back with vengeance.

"That was great!" Professor Spinnet beamed, clapping excitedly. I blinked twice. I had almost forgotten she was there. Potter came back on stage, smirking broadly.

"Well done, Lils'. You should get the role, the others weren't as fiery as you were," He said, winking. I rolled my eyes, but spared him a small smile. Should I compliment him? I wondered.

"Oh and if you were planning on complimenting my awesome acting skills, it's okay, the other girls did that already," He smirked. I scowled. Still the same old Potter.

"That was some scene! Thank you James, you were perfect. Lily, you little spitfire, you were great! I saw some real chemistry there," Professor Spinnet chirped happily. I smirked at the first bit, then gave a wry grin at the last. If she only knew Potter and I were sworn enemies, then she might not say it was chemistry. Perhaps physics. If friction hadn't stopped me, I would kick Potter's balls all the way to the moon.

"Do you know how to do the waltz, Lily dear?" Professor Spinnet asked, adjusting her pince-nez spectacles.

"Yes Professor," I said through gritted teeth, trying my best not to punch the deviously smirking arsehole beside me.

"I think Lily and I are ready to dance, my lady," He bowed to her, then to me, taking my hand. He bent down and I realised he was going to kiss my hand, shuddering in revulsion as I did. Instinctively, I pushed his head away with my free hand.

Smack. His lips landed on the pink fluffy tablecloth. He opened his eyes, blinking, his face slowly turning red.

"Oh," He said, sheepishly running a hand through his hair. I choked back a laugh. Professor looked vaguely amused.

"Shall we start, Mr. Darcy?" I asked sweetly, tilting my head to the side and batting my eyelashes. He scowled, pouting. I laughed triumphantly, stepping into the empty stage that would be our makeshift ballroom. I surveyed it in distaste. The reason why I liked ballroom dancing was because it was elegant and I could check my reflection in the mirror. I could hear Potter stomping after me, his lips twisted in a childish pout.

"I hate you," He muttered as he followed me to the floor. I raised an eyebrow, giving him a taste of his god awful Potter smirk.

"Can't say I don't hate you either," I commented dryly as he grabbed my waist and pulled me a little too close. To give an idea of our proximity, my head was almost touching his chin and my face was half-buried in his robes. He held my hands tightly and his grasp just tightened with every move I made. In the end, I gave up trying

"Get off me!" My voice was but a muffled whisper, my face scrunched up against his chest.

"I'm not even on you. Want me to be?" His chuckle rumbled through his chest, and my face felt like it was on vibrate. I scowled, kicking his shin.

"Ow, that actually hurt!" He whined, but his grip didn't loosen. Damn.

"Well, dears, are you ready to start?" Professor Spinnet sounded amused. Potter released me immediately. My saviour! I had forgotten she was there.

"That must have looked wrong," Potter smirked, assuming the proper stance. I gritted my teeth in annoyance, realising how our compromising position must have looked to an outsider.

"Music!" Professor said happily as Potter gave a lazy flick of his wand. The sounds of "Eternal Flame" filled the air.

_Close your eyes, give me your hand_

Potter sang along, whispering the words as he led me into the first steps.

"No thanks," I muttered, "And I think you're already holding onto my hand." He laughed, giving me another Potter smirk. I was surprised. He was a good dancer, his movements fluid, the hand guiding me sure. He moved with an ease and elegance few guys had, keeping his eyes on me instead of his feet.

_Can you feel my heart beating?_

"No," I muttered.

"Why? It's beating for you, can't you hear it?" He pouted.

_Do you understand?_

"No. I don't understand retards like you."

"You mean I'm a retard? I don't want to be a retard!"

"Sorry, you don't have a choice."

"Oh right. Damn."

_Do you feel the same?_

"I'm not a mind reader, how am I supposed to know how you feel?"

"Lily, you know you and I have a hate/love relationship!"

"Hate, yes. Love? I don't think so."

"You know what they say: The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference! Hate means that you still care."

"Whatever. Next!"

_Am I only dreaming?_

"If you're not dreaming I don't know what you are doing."

"Why can't we not hate each other?"

"We can, Potter. We can."

"Really?"

"Yep. In your dreams."

"That wasn't funny!"

_Or is this burning_

"Ouch that hurt."

"HOT."

_An eternal flame_

"Forever doesn't last you know."

"But flames do! All they need is oxygen."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer"

The music stopped and I quickly stepped away from him. It felt good, not that I would admit it, dancing with him. I hadn't had a proper dance partner in years, one that would take the lead and not leave me to figure out what he wanted me to do.

"That was brilliant!" Professor Spinnet clapped.

"As always, Professor," Potter flourished a bow.

"It was nothing special," I hastily amended, shooting him a glare. Arrogant prick.

"Alright, dears, you can go off now! Thank you so much for helping me and Lily dear, you were splendid!" Professor Spinnet beamed as she gathered her papers and trotted off, leaving Potter and I behind.

"Well, we're alone, aren't we?" Potter ran a hand through his hair as he smirked at me, taking a step forward. I stepped away. He stepped towards me. I stepped away. He stepped towards me again, that stupid smirk still plastered on his face.

"Potter, don't you get a hint?" I yelled.

"Will you marry me and spawn my kids?" Potter asked in reply.

"No! I do not and never will!" I yelled again.

"See? There's your answer," He shrugged, walking off. I was confused yet again! What was he trying to do? One minute he was following me and the other he walks off.

"Wait what are you doing?" I shouted after him, bewildered.

"Going back to the common room of course. You're not going to stand here forever, are you?" He looked back at me as he walked along, staring quizzically at me, my feet rooted to the ground. I smacked myself mentally, conscious that I looked like an idiot standing there alone. In addition, it was getting dark and Hogwarts was a scary place at night.

"Wait for me!" I called out before he could get any further. A grin spread over his face as I caught up with him.

"Wow. If I had known this would make you voluntarily take a walk with me, I would have done so ages ago!"

"Oh shut up," I blushed, smacking his shoulder, "Don't get used to it."

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A/N: Harry Potter is mine...in my dreams! Thanks to the lovely people who commented! I'm glad you enjoyed this, because I had some fun writing this too, even if it was on a really tight schedule (blame my beta reader). Chapter 4 will probably be up somewhere in November or end-October after my exams.

~theabominablepen


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